


Who You Are in the Dark

by wherethewordsare



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bickering, Forgiveness, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Tags Are Hard, geralt tells a story, idk what yall want from me here, jaskier needs time, post mountain, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:21:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27791452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherethewordsare/pseuds/wherethewordsare
Summary: Traveling with Jaskier again had come with caveats. There was less music, less smiles in their time alone on the road. The easy touches of before were gone but Jaskier was there. Parts at least. They had stayed in Kaer Morhen for the winter and it had been tense, the air charged with a waiting that Geralt couldn’t seem to name. He would watch from the corners as Jaskier lit up in conversation with the other Wolves or smiled warmly at Ciri, but when their eyes met, that light vanished from his face.Geralt had to tell himself that it didn’t hurt him nearly as much as it did or there was going to be no getting through it. He had needed Jaskier with him for Ciri’s sake, and nothing more since Geralt wasn’t in the habit of needing people for himself.Fuck, he needed Jaskier.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 17
Kudos: 386
Collections: Geralt is Sorry





	Who You Are in the Dark

Traveling with Jaskier again had come with caveats. There was less music, fewer smiles in their time alone on the road. The easy touches of before were gone but Jaskier was there. Parts at least. They had stayed in Kaer Morhen for the winter and it had been tense, the air charged with a waiting that Geralt couldn’t seem to name. He would watch from the corners as Jaskier lit up in conversation with the other Wolves or smiled warmly at Ciri, but when their eyes met, that light vanished from his face. 

Geralt had to tell himself that it didn’t hurt him nearly as much as it did or there was going to be no getting through it. He had needed Jaskier with him for Ciri’s sake, and nothing more since Geralt wasn’t in the habit of needing people for himself.

Fuck, he needed Jaskier. 

Then they were on the path again and the silence that fell between them felt like a brand, marking him for the things he had done, the words he threw so callously filling the space where Jaskier’s melody used to be. When Ciri had still been with them, the nights in camp had been passed to the tune of soft lullabies and lute lessons. Mornings while Geralt moved to pack the last of the saddlebags, Jaskier would pick the first of the wildflowers and teach her to weave them into crowns or in with the braids they wound through Roach’s mane. But Yennefer had collected Ciri for training and it had just left the two of them alone in the camp in the foothills of the Blue Mountains.

Geralt looked to the south where a grove of trees stood and he knew where he was. He and Eskel used to stop at this same campsite when they had first set out on the Path almost every Spring. After they broke camp, Geralt turned Roach towards those trees where he knew the river hid his best-kept secret. 

Jaskier followed without a word, without a strum, with barely a sound. Even Roach seemed to notice, sometimes pulling her head from Geralt’s rein to nudge Jaskier’s shoulder. It was in the way Jaskier lifted his hand to pat Roach back then hesitated that drove it home, just what Geralt had done, how deeply those wounds ran. 

He dismounted as they approached the river, the water covering the wide flat stones that made up most of its banks as the Spring melt began the trek down into the valleys. He undid his armor, placing it carefully with his pack, and removed his boots. Jaskier only stood for a moment, his face pulled in confusion. 

“What are you doing, Geralt?” Almost. It was almost there, that tone Jaskier’s voice took when it shaped Geralt’s name. 

“Do you trust me?” he could have phrased it any other way. He knew the answer to that and he knew why. But still, he had to hear it, to see if it was true. Straight from the bard’s mouth.

Jaskier gave a dry bark of laughter, resting his hands on his hips for a moment before he dropped his arms and pushed a hard breath through his nose. He pulled off his lute case and shrugged out of his doublet, looking pointedly away from Geralt.

“I do, of course I do, despite my better judgment,” There were more words but Geralt saw him bite down around them, catching them behind his teeth. 

“What… what if I told you a story?” Geralt stood, wiping his palms against his thighs anxiously. 

Jaskier’s head whipped around but he narrowed his eyes as he caught Geralt smirking. “What kind of story? A witcher story?” 

Geralt’s smile only grew as he took a step towards Jaskier. “Jaskier, honestly,” he took another step and his hand came up, reaching for Jaskier’s hip. He knew he would have to move fast. “Do you trust me?” He hadn’t meant to sound that earnest, that needing of something he could not name that wasn’t just Jaskier. A tension wound around them and it only seemed to cinch them closer together until they were chest to chest, Jaskier’s chin tucked against Geralt’s shoulder.

“Yes,” it was barely a breath against his ear but it was solid and sure and whole. 

“Hold your breath.”

And he tipped them both over into the river and dove down, holding Jaskier close as he twisted in the current. His feet found purchase and he pushed off into the direction he knew even after nearly a lifetime. They were through the slip in the rocks and Geralt angled them upward towards the surface again, still clinging to one another. 

Jaskier sputtered in his arms, teeth chattering as he yelped. “Geralt, what the fuck!” He made another noise as his voice echoed back to him. He hissed as he looked around, unable to see

They were treading water in the absolute pitch. Geralt guided Jaskier over to a ledge that was out of the water and easily hauled him up onto it as he himself climbed out of the water. He kicked around gently for the box he and Eskel had left. 

“Geralt, where are we?” Jaskier kept his voice down this time, though he moved around the flat rock, his hands searching for Geralt. Geralt leaned down and took his hand, guiding him to his feet easily. He didn’t let go as his foot finally made contact with wood. He fumbled with one hand for a candle and the matches, only letting go after squeezing Jaskier’s hand reassuringly. 

“We’re in a cave.” Through the dark, he could feel Jaskier glare daggers into his general direction and he chuckled. “Shield your eyes, I’m about to strike a match.” 

The spark ran along the strike pad of the tinderbox before the head ignited in a bloom of sharp white light before settling to a single flickering flame. He held it up slightly so he could see as he grabbed one of the candles to light, passing it to Jaskier. Grabbing another candle he lit the end off of Jaskier’s, giving a small smile as he did. 

“I promised you a story,” he turned and started towards the entrance of a tunnel, reaching down to take Jaskier’s hand again and delighted in how he didn’t pull away but let himself be led. 

“You did. But then you pulled me into a river and now we’re in a cave I’m assuming under that ledge and still no story or explanation,” Jaskier huffed. It dawned on Geralt that this had been the most they had talked alone since Geralt asked Jaskier to come to Kaer Morhen with him and Ciri. He was glad that they weren’t so out of practice. 

“Impatient.”

“Impertinent.”

They walked a little further, the tunnel narrowing slightly before it opened up again into a cavern that their meager candlelight could not reach. Geralt only winced slightly when Jaskier let go of his hand to look around. He leaned up against the wall, humming his eyes looking out into the dark. 

“How is it you started those stories, for Ciri? Once a very long time ago-”

“Once upon a time,” Jaskier looked over his shoulder, his face cast in shadows as he pushed back his dripping hair.

Geralt licked his lips and took a breath, nodding. “Yeah. Once upon a time, there had been two courts of fae that were bitter rivals. No one could say why, especially now, that part of the history is lost,” Geralt decided to look down at his feet. He was having a hard time focusing when Jaskier turned slightly, arching his neck to try to see the ceiling as his chemise clinging to his shoulders and chest. “But as these things go, two of them met and became lovers. They asked the river spirit to give them a place they could be together and the spirit agreed. On one condition,” Geralt pushed off from the wall and walked over to Jaskier, closing a hand around where he held the candle as Geralt blew out his own.

“What? What are you doing?” Jaskier raised an eyebrow, looking at Geralt from across the flame, his eyes shining. 

“Trust. The river spirit said that as long as the lovers trusted each other, even in the darkest of times, the darkest of places, they would always have somewhere. And so it shrugged up into the earth and made them a place.” Geralt held his breath as he watched closely. 

“Do you trust me? Trust that I never intended to-” Jaskier’s eyes were wet and his face seemed to pale. 

“I’ve always trusted you, Jaskier. I broke that trust and I don’t know how to repair it, I don’t know how to undo what I’ve done but, I know I would trust you in the darkest places.” 

“Geralt,” Jaskier took a deep breath and exhaled. When he did, the candle between them blew out. 

He was so thankful that he decided to stay that close to Jaskier as the walls and floor around them began to shine. Crystals of all sizes shed off a pale blue light that caught in the water droplets that still clung to Jaskier’s eyelashes. 

Oh. 

_ Oh. _

Jaskier’s eyes were wide in wonder as he turned and turned, trying to look at everything all at once, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find words. Finally, he turned back, gaping at Geralt as he vaguely gestured at the cavern around them. 

“We have been traveling together for decades, Geralt and you decide to only show this to me now?” he placed his free hand on his hip and sputtered with as much indignation as he could muster still soaked through and shivering slightly. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed.

“Honestly, Geralt!” Jaskier cast around again, turning in a slow circle on his heel, stumbling backward as he tipped his head back. Geralt caught him easily, righting him again. 

“Jaskier.” he spun him around by the shoulders slowly, locking their eyes. In this light, the bright blue of Jaskier’s eyes nearly glowed. “Please.” He wasn’t sure what he was even asking for, what it was he so desperately needed from Jaskier right then. Absolution? Attribution? Adulation? All he could do was hope. Hope and trust he had not looked back on their twenty-odd years and had misremembered everything; hope that he hadn’t thrown it all away on that mountain. 

“I know, dear heart. I know. Of course, you’re forgiven. I just need a little more time,” Jaskier confided gently, his hands coming up to cup Geralt’s face. “Meletele, I thought you’d never surprise me after this long. Telling me stories in the dark, Witcher. Honestly, I think you might be getting soft on me.” He was teasing but the soft laugh he gave was wet and breathy. 

Jaskier leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to Geralt’s lips, his gaze fond as he pulled away. “You have always been the light in the dark, Geralt, even when you’ve been an absolute dimwit.” 

Geralt frowned. “Wait. What?” He raised an eyebrow, making Jaskier beam brighter than the stones around them. 

After one more swim through the river, they found themselves side by side, wrapped in dry blankets sitting on the sun-warmed rock they had dived off of that morning, sharing a comfortable silence for the first time in what felt like too long. Geralt didn’t remark on the way Jaskier leaned into his shoulder the same way he had before or how his easy chatter and idle strumming of his lute brought peace back to Geralt’s heart. 

Time. He could give Jaskier time. He was just relieved he no longer felt like he was in the dark.


End file.
